


Cookie Crumbs

by friedhotsauce



Series: The Silver Dreams of Brandon Stark [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brother Feels, Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedhotsauce/pseuds/friedhotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would even pray for winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookie Crumbs

No, he had never felt winter before  
The summer boy  
Had only ever seen  
Twisting ferns and briar roses

Although he knew all too well  
That nightmares and bad news  
Took their forms in icicles  
The little Stark secretly prayed  
For snow  
Thinking that it was just simply  
Cold powdered sugar

The sun is getting boring to look at  
Bran decides it has overstayed its welcome  
He throws twigs and roots at the sky  
To shoo the yellow marble away  
Crystal rain cannot satisfy his need for  
Winter

Bran is frustrated  
His juvenile experiments  
All end in vain  
Maybe it wasn't meant to be  
A part of his adventurous soul  
Crumbles on to the lap of broken dreams  
He sulks into the ever-warm kitchens  
Tired and tried  
The sun whipped his back harder that day  
And Bran reminds himself to keep  
His hatred for it  
A little more quiet  
They're supposed to be friends  
After all

"Your last name is Snow,  
Winter should be at your heels!"  
Bran whines to his bastard brother  
Jon chuckles at the little one's naivety  
"Come now Bran  
You don't truly want the cold  
Do you?"

Bran looks down  
Ashamed to admit  
He wants what drives people to the cliffs  
Better Jon know of this secret  
Than anyone else  
He understands  
The want for dreams and wishes  
To come true

"Close your eyes"  
Jon brushes his rocky finger tips  
Over Bran's gray-lake eyelids  
Mouth skin smiling widely  
Upon both of them

A shortbread  
Dully beaded with sugar  
And cream  
And bits of drywall from  
The gods' cloud mansions  
Cold to the touch  
Like the first frost  
Friendly and beckoning  
Until you've had enough

Bran laughs like a shooting star  
Reaching his fingers above  
Picturing a winter wonderland  
Milky icing sticking to his hair  
Crumbs feeding the embroidered wolves on his arms  
And flakes of pure sweetness  
Gluing his fingers together  
A fine mess  
Nothing could tower this feeling

The pastry has served its purpose  
Jon steps off the stool he stood on  
As he pretended to be the sky  
Bran opens his eyes and arms  
To thank his brother

"Winter isn't dessert, Bran  
It's harshness and pain  
Please don't pray for it any longer"  
The little Stark swears to heed the advice  
Just like he promised his mother  
He would cease to climb


End file.
